


Your Eyes Close

by heavy_cream



Series: As Certain Dark [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Future Fic, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavy_cream/pseuds/heavy_cream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Show me," you tell him as you slide your mouth wetly over his collarbone, "show me how to make you feel good," you say because you've never done this before, not quite like this, when it all matters so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Eyes Close

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Your Eyes Close](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949718) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)



> Woefully unbetaed. Part of **As Certain Dark** series but can be read on its own.
> 
> Purely from Aomine's POV. Not written in sequence, it's one night but it skips back and forth.
> 
> Edit: This had a lot more typos than I thought it had gosh, went back to fix them.

You trail a hand over his side, the skin stretched taut over sinewy muscle and when he leans into your touch, closes his mouth over yours, you feel your chest grow tight and you think _finally_.

*

You are kissing him on the street in front of your apartment building and you can’t even be bothered to care about the fact that you are in public, that your shoes aren't even tied properly, that you will lock yourself out if the door falls shut behind you because you didn't remember to bring your keys when you ran down four stories worth of stairs. He is crying because of course he is, he cries about everything and you take his face in your hands and rub the tears away because you can't speak, can barely breathe with the weight that is lodged in your throat.

There is so much you want to say, after all the years that you have known each other, there ought to be endless tomes of the things left unspoken between you and you look at him, his tear filled eyes, his swollen mouth, his rosy cheeks and in the end all you say is “Ryouta.”

He smiles, foolishly because he is foolish, but so are you and you kiss him again because really there has never been any need to say anything at all.

*

"Show me," you tell him as you slide your mouth wetly over his collarbone, "show me how to make you feel good," you say because you've never done this before, not quite like this, when it all matters so much.

"Okay," he breathes against your lips and when he takes you both in his hand, you want to tell him that that's not what you meant, but he is closing his eyes and throwing his head back and you forget how to breath.

*

He is lying next to you, fast asleep, hair tousled, his shoulders and neck and back are covered in scratches and pink marks that will fade to purple come morning. It's sometime before dawn, the room cooled by the breeze coming through the open window. He is a long pale column, nestled in your sheets, and you wonder briefly about opposites, think that anybody else could probably find poetry in that, in you.

You reach out because you are marveled by the contrast of your darker skin against his fairer one, and you trail your hand down his back, following the lean line of muscle to the dip of his spine. He shifts, waking from his slumber, and when you look at him you meet his eyes, like molten gold in the dark. 

"Daiki," he says, his voice rough and deep and just like that you feel heat pool low in your belly again, the air growing warm and thick around you. You slide your hand back up his body as he rolls to lie on his side. You kiss him, sliding your tongue wet and dirty over his lips.

"I want you," you tell him and can barely recognize the growl as your own voice. Your hand on his waist grips tight to pull him close, hips against hips and he arches into your heat.

"Yes," he answers and rolls on top of you.

*

He is infinitely patient and oddly matter of fact as he explains to you what you are supposed to do with the packets of slick he has pressed into your hands and when you don't seem to be able to move he sits up and trails a hand down your cheek.

"We don't have to do it all tonight," he says softly and you look at him, hair disheveled, lips kiss-bruised, and eyes like liquid amber and you _ache_. 

"I want to," you say simply and he smiles.

"Kiss me," he says and you do, lean forward to slant your mouth against his, licking into him indulgently rather than urgent, and you feel your nerves leave you as he cards his hands through your hair. He leans backwards and pulls you along and it's easy to slide to lie on top of him, your bodies fitting so effortlessly against each other. 

He shifts his hips slightly, pressing against you and you can feel his heat next to your own.

"Touch me," he murmurs and you obey, trailing a hand down his side, feeling the bump of toned muscle under the damp skin. He is mouthing at your neck, tugging on your earlobe and you feel like burning up. You slide down his body, licking the salt off his skin, sinking your teeth in wherever the flesh yields enough to do so and press hot kisses along the dip of his hip bones. 

"More," he pants and you sit up, to spread his legs further apart, splaying him for your pleasure and you feel heady by the way he obeys. You slick up your fingers as much as you can and rub against his entrance like he told you. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, know secretly it's not all due to arousal, but you'll be damned if you'll let nerves get to you again. 

"More," he urges and cants his hips forward. You are careful when you slide in first one finger, then a second when he tells you to and then later a third. The pressure is incredibly, the fit so tight you are not sure it's even possible for you to fit there, but you can't worry too long about it because suddenly he jolts and lets out a harsh panting breath. You are worried for a moment that you've hurt him, but he undulates his body as if trying to get the sensation back and he looks at you through lust lidded eyes.

"Again," he whimpers, hips moving restlessly and you pin him down. You move your hand again, in and out and you watch him carefully. He's closed his eyes, his brow furrowed, as if he's concentrating on it, and when you curl your fingers just so and slide out slightly, he jerks again and shouts.

"There," he pants but he doesn't really have to because now that you've found it you are relentless in your touch. You rub your fingertips against the spot and watch him to know what feels better, sliding in and out, curling upwards, pressing and stroking and soon you find a rhythm that has him writhing and thrashing in the bed. He is fisting the pillow, hips twitching almost involuntarily, his cock a hard column against his belly, and you don't think you've ever been this aroused in your life.

You reach out to hold him then, curling your other hand around the base of his ridiculously pretty cock and give it a hard stroke upwards that has him arching off the bed entirely.

"Stop," he says and reaches out with shaky hands. "I won't last," he explains at your look and you release him and ease your fingers out of him. He sits up then abruptly and kisses you urgently, his mouth hot against yours.

"Fuck me," he says and you groan when you feel his hands sliding over your cock. "Fuck me, please," he begs as he rolls down the condom expertly over your aching erection and you crush your mouth against his.

"Fuck," you curse, so aroused you can barely see, and push him back against the bed, rub yourself desperately against him before you sit back to align yourself against his entrance.

It's unbearably tight and hot, the slide feeling slick and thick and you stop halfway through because you are one breath away of coming. 

"Fuck," you repeat, your voice hoarse and shaky and he is hollowing out his back and pulling you down by your neck so you have no choice but to lean forward and kiss him and slide in completely.

"Alright?" he asks you as he trails his hands over your shoulders and really it should be you asking that but it's _you_ who's trembling.

"So tight," you answer and bite at his lips and move to suck at the lobe with the earring, “so hot,” you pant against his ear and he arches and presses against you. He is cursing and whimpering and making noises that go directly to your cock, so you start moving slightly, grinding into him and he lets out a keening noise. 

It's a haze what follows, you move driven by instinct and raw desire, and at some point you sit up because you want to look at him so bad, his flushed face, his heaving chest, his perky dick bobbing with every thrust of your hips. You slide your hands behind his knees and press them back towards his chest. He is moaning half bitten curses and pleads and you can't stop staring at him, at the blushed skin, the point where you are sliding into him, and it feels so good you are not sure you are going to make it through alive. You increase your pace, chasing your pleasure but wanting his more than your own and are pleased when he is rendered almost speechless.

He reaches down to take a hold of himself and starts stroking hard and fast, shameless in his desire.

"Fuck, Kise, _shit_ ," you curse, your brain short circuiting at the sight and he opens his eyes to look at you, reaches out so his fingertips touch your belly. 

"So close," he says and you lean forward bending him almost in half to bite at his neck. 

"Come on baby," you urge him desperate to see him, "come for me baby," you almost growl and Kise shouts.

"Ah- Daiki-" he wails and you feel him spurting between you. And he's so hot when he comes, even better than you imagined, and he tightens down on you impossibly so and you can't help it really to grind into him. He is making a high pitched whimpering noise even as he curls around you, tries to get even closer to you, and chants _"Daiki, Daiki, Daiki-"_ in your ear and suddenly you are overwhelmed by it all.

You come buried deep inside of him, surrounded by him, his voice and taste and scent, and this time it feels a bit like drowning.

*

You wake up in the middle of the night when the bed dips next to you and you watch as he leans over to kiss you on the corner of your mouth. 

"I didn't mean to wake you," he apologizes and you reach out to pull him into a proper kiss. His lips are cold and he tastes vaguely minty. You grunt when he touches you with icy fingertips. 

"Cold," you complain and he grins wickedly at you before he sticks his hand under the covers and grabs your cock. You yelp very undignified which in turns makes him laugh and you start to toss around in the bed until you succeed in rolling over him, pinning his hands next to his head. He is still laughing, half breathless chuckles escaping in mirth and you hadn't notice until just then that you are laughing along with him. He looks at you, languid smiles and half lidded eyes and you lean down to kiss him again. He tugs his hands free and wraps them around you and sighs when you lay down on him again.

It's tenderness that you feel now, even as you seek to touch his body, it's affection that guides your movements, a sudden need to reassure by touch that which your other senses have already confirmed: that he is with you, in your bed, warm and pliant, and you feel a softness you've never experienced before. 

You end up lying with your head on his chest and his hand in your hair, and sleep claims you without any real permission from your part, but it doesn't really matter, you know, after all, you have years and years for this.

*

It's six in the morning and he's in your bed in New York. You blink at the messy blond hair in front of you, look further down to where bruises have blossomed on his neck. You follow the line of his shoulder, his toned arm, his side, the valley of his waist to the hip where you have slung over your arm in sleep. You know you should let him rest but you are greedy, have always been, so instead you press kisses to his shoulder, savoring the sun-warmed skin both foreign and achingly familiar, and press your whole body against his.

He stirs, a slow stretch of limbs before he turns around to face you. His lips are rosy, his eyes still mostly sleep-clouded, but he smiles pleased to be there with you, in your bed on a warm summer morning and you are struck with the realization that this is how it's going to be like from now on, with him turning lazy and sweet towards you, seeking out warmth and affection that you can't help but pour onto him, and you swallow thickly.

“Good morning,” you greet, rubbing his cheekbone with your thumb, feeling your heart skip a beat as his smiles widens and he reaches out for you when you roll him onto his back.

“Yes,” he says and kisses you back when you can’t bare it any longer and it feels just as warm as the sun streaming in through the window.

And it finally feels like home.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  _I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you,_   
>  _so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,_   
>  _so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close._   
>  _― Pablo Neruda_   
> 
> 
>   
>  I thought about this a lot, and wrote most of it months ago and then suddenly I got stuck and couldn't find a way to finish it until now. Maybe it's a "boyfriend punch" miracle, idk.
> 
> Here is the [tumblr link](http://heavy--cream.tumblr.com/post/109431895290/knb-your-eyes-close) if you want to reblog, really appreciate it if you do!
> 
> Again, there will be another story, at least two more, one of them pure smut, the other one is going to be mostly fluff, Aomine style, so like, thug fluff or something.
> 
> As always, commentary and criticism is very welcome and please point out my mistakes if you see them.


End file.
